“There’s a lot of bad shit that’s gone down between me and Colson. To him, I’m his enemy, and I deserve that title, but a few days ago, that all changed.”
I swallow against the ball of tension nagging my throat. I can’t believe Janie was married for years, and it never came out. I can’t believe Colson’s mother died and now he has a sibling. How does that even happen? Did she know all along that Finn and Colson shared the same father?
God.
I choose to skip ahead. “So, you followed him, but how do you know he’s messing with the wrong people if you’re not part of that world, too?”
“I saw him talking to a guy we used to go to school with that’s real big in the fighting scene. He’s been doing it under the radar for years.”
I shake my head. “Maybe they were just talking because they’re friends.”
He glances over at the same time his hand slides down the steering wheel and pulls it into a turn. “I called a contact of mine who was able to get me in on one of the fights to verify it.”
I glance over at him, my gut pointing a finger at me and saying,I told you he’s not the kind of guy you should’ve gotten into a car with,because if he has a contact that got him intoa fight that means he has to hang out with some pretty shady people.
“Did he see you there?” I ask.
“No. I know how to stay out of sight, but to be honest, he looked way too fucking in his head to notice any of the faces in the crowd. The Battleground is known to snatch people up and when that happens, theydon’tspit them back out. They’ll keep Colson tight knit until he’s physically unable to walk into the ring again. And if he tries to escape before then?—”
“You make it sound like he joined a gang.”
“Consider this the next worst thing.”
“If Colson is set on fighting, me walking in there isn’t going to suddenly make him come to his senses.” If I’ve learned anything about him in the last few weeks, it’s that he’s irrevocably stubborn.
He sniffs and shifts in his seat. “You’re right, but if he sees you with me, he’s guaranteed to freak the fuck out and pull away.”
I blink three times. “You plan on pitting meagainsthim?” My tone is a shriek when the words come out. “No.Hellno. He’s going through enough. He doesn’t need this on top of that. You are out of your mind.”
He looks over at me as the car rolls to a stop at an intersection. “You said you cared about him.”
“I do,” I insist. “But that’s pushing it too far. He’s the most fragile I’ve ever seen him.” I’m not sure if that’s saying much since I’ve only known him for a few months. “Presenting him with another, I don’t know,shit sundaeisn’t going to make it better.”
“He’s hopping fences, Violet. The only way to get him to see reason at this point is to do the goddamn same.”
I hate how much sense that makes, but I don’t know what Colson will do if he sees me with another man, much less withFinn after he admitted Colson considers him the enemy. This is going to end one of two ways. Him still moving forward with fighting or raising his fists to spar with Finn instead.
“This isn’t going to end well,” I warn, my nerves tying themselves in knots as we drive farther into Harrison Heights.
“Never does when your biggest opponent is yourself.”
I’ve only beento two places in Harrison Heights. The gas station Colson took me to Thanksgiving night when I showed up at his apartment an absolute mess and his mom’s house.
We slowly drive down side street after side street. We pass a block of businesses, all of them looking as if they’ve been out of business for the better part of the last ten years, their windows dusty and smogged over. It’s clear an economic decline has the town in its grasp.
Streetlights illuminate the bare minimum, and I take note of how most of the sidewalks need repaving. They’re not the only thing that could use a fresh coat of love. Random bushes, though dormant, could use trimming. Shutters on homes could use replacing. Awnings over closed businesses could use patching.
It’s devastating to see, knowing that on the other side of the Sycamore River, life is bustling, the economy thriving. To know that there’s not much opportunity that exists in a place like Harrison Heights hits the deepest parts of me. That Colson grew up in such lackluster circumstances is annihilating. There aren’t even any doctor’s offices around. No window clings withtherapyorhealthcarepromising to make you feel whole again.
The farther we get into town, the more desolate it becomes. Everything is bleak and unlively. When Finn rolls to a stop at acurb, I peer out the window into the night to spot a laundromat, the windows of it in need of a good washing.
“I’m parking here, but we’ll have to walk another two blocks.”
I nod, and the instant I open the door, a wall of cold hits me. I forget that I’m wearing a skimpy top with skin-tight leather skinny jeans that do nothing to protect me from the chill in the air. “Do you?—”
Finn knows what I’m going to ask before I finish because he reaches around to the back seat and deposits a black zip up sweatshirt on my lap. “Make sure I get it back.”
I mutter out a thanks—sheesh—and put it on. The sweatshirt hits me mid-thigh.
